I can't find my mojo. I am lost in beauty and seem to float from this to that without “getting things done.”

I spend hours knitting with thin, fine yarn made from merino wool and a bit of alpaca, watching loops grow into soft, drapey cloth. I savor tall glasses of water with lemon and ice cubes with tiny violets trapped in them. Big blooms on my tree peonies knock my socks off. Has spring ever been this beautiful before?

When my daughters were little they wanted movies without the bad side; just the good. They didn’t need the contrast of good and evil. I don’t need to balance out this beauty-bath I am living in with what is ugly. It feels a little like trying to think without words. The challenge is to still the constant head talk. It is like learning to meditate—to stay in the beauty.

Mr. Fix-it and I spent a few days on Cape Cod last week and numbed our ankles in the Atlantic, slept on the beach and picked up rocks. Seeing the ocean and marshes was the lift off for this current beauty fest. Now, back at home, it rolls on.

It is so quiet here. Like sinking into a down cushion. Last night an owl broke the silence and today busy birds call out, but that is all. The quiet is deep. I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. I think that getting in the car will shift my perspective back to "the usual." Too many points of view, too much noise, too much advertising, too many cars.​I know my mojo will return and with it the striving to get things done. I will move and divide perennials, plant new ones, prune trees, get groceries, and do all the things that need doing. For now, I will enjoy not having my goal directed days push me around, and float in the beauty-bath a little longer.